Tumultuous

I admit this to my soul: Like Israelites longing for Egypt, the land that oppressed them, I hear the songs of their now unbeating hearts. I pine for a love that grounds me, though one that afflicts and chains me. A thing that weighs me down snuffing out my light and sucking out my breath. This persistent desire makes a slave of me. When a vision of liberation flashes before me, boiling beneath my skin, a gripping fear of the unknown halts then paralyzes. I crawl back into my cage, self-defeated, pulling the door closed behind me. My captor turns the lock and I kiss his feet through the iron. He grabs me up by the hair, my face pressed into the bars, and nuzzles me gently. Black bitterness engulfs my heart flooding it with rage. I cling to him and repress the seething in my chest. Left to burn silently until it might dissipate.